In the excited rush of voices that followed Marcos’s announcement he glanced at Tessa and saw a shadow of indecision in her eyes. “Come on, Tess. You owe me a drink or two for the way you manhandled me.”
Her brows went up. “Manhandled? I went easy on you.”
Had she? A shadow passed through his head. Maybe she had tonight, but four years ago? Not a chance. And that should be what he concentrated on, not the memory of those times they’d shared in the ring… and in bed.
If only he could convince his body to cooperate.
He shook his head to rid it of that thought.
Today was a new day. And they could very well go out and enjoy a drink together, dammit, without him turning it into a huge friggin’ deal.
The group headed to the locker rooms to change back into street clothes. Since Tessa was the only woman in the room, she went to Marcos’s office.
Something about how close she and the studio owner seemed to be struck him for the first time.
He looked at Marcos with new eyes. Were they seeing each other outside these sessions? The man wasn’t married, and he certainly seemed to have a soft spot for Tessa, having used the diminutive form of her name quite a bit today. He couldn’t remember if Marcos had done that in the past.
But he was in his late forties.
And that meant what, exactly? Tessa was thirty. Not exactly a May to December romance.
A shard of what could have been jealousy went through him, except it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. He and Tessa had been over for a long time. He’d married another woman and had fathered a child, for heaven’s sake. He saw how that had turned out. Failure on a spectacular level. So whatever was going on between Tessa and her trainer was none of his business.
She kissed you.
The inner voice rumbled in his head, reminding him that either he was wrong about his speculation or their relationship was open enough that neither of them cared what the other did.
He couldn’t see Marcos being that nonchalant about it, though. He was a pretty intense man. And no way would Clay have ever allowed any man to touch Tessa without risking a permanently rearranged face when they’d been dating.
Again, those days were over.
He changed quickly and ran his fingers through his hair to put it back in some semblance of order.
Why? It was just Tessa and the old gang. They’d all just been through the same workout.
A few minutes later he was standing beside her as they made their way down the sidewalk. It had been decided it was faster to walk than to try to all pile into cars and meet there. Besides, The Pied Piper was only a couple of blocks away. And the way this group partied, it was probably better that no one would be driving himself home. They’d flag down taxis and return for their vehicles in the morning.
Clay intended to keep his wits about him, though, whatever the others decided to do. A night of drinking could cause problems and not just with his job.
“So is Molly going to come to the exhibition?” Tessa’s question came out of nowhere.
“Probably. She seemed to like the studio a lot. My folks will be taking care of her during the festival, since I’ll be a little occupied.”
She immediately tensed, head coming up, eyes facing straight ahead. “That’s nice. It’s wonderful that they can watch her when her mother can’t.”
Yeah, which was most of the time, since Lizza was normally busy flitting here or there and focusing on her career. The funny thing about that was that Tessa was doing exactly the same thing. Working hard and putting all of her efforts into her job. But it didn’t bother him that she did it.
Why?
Because if Molly had been her daughter, he had no doubt that she would somehow make time for her, just as he did. Sure, his parents cared for her while he was working, but he spent every second he could with her. Tonight was the exception to the rule. He rarely went out to do anything fun anymore because he had responsibilities and he took them seriously.
So did Tessa.
And so did Lizza, in her own way. Except Molly’s mother seemed to check her responsibilities at the door when it came to her own daughter.
His teeth grated against each other.
He glanced at Tessa, and she seemed to have relaxed again, so maybe it was his imagination that she’d suddenly gone all stiff and nonresponsive.
They arrived at the bar to find the capoeira group assembled out front. Marcos waited for the last two stragglers to arrive. “Everyone good with doing his own thing and leaving whenever you want? If you want to share cabs, make those arrangements now before it gets crazy. You can pair up again on the way out.”
One of the players grinned. “My wife is meeting me here, so count me out. I’m not sharing that cab with anyone but her.”
A couple of laughs went through the group at the bald innuendo.
Clay glanced at Tessa. “Are you okay with sharing one?”
“Of course.” She stopped. “Unless you’re staying until the place shuts down.”
“I wasn’t planning to. How about if we leave whenever you’re ready?”
She gave him a pointed look. “If you want to prowl around, though, and find someone else to leave with, just let me know. You can text me.”
“The only person I’m leaving with is you.” He realized how that might have sounded when her face turned pink. But everyone was already moving into the bar and the sounds from inside were leaking out through the open door.
“I guess that’s our cue. Shall we?”
He waited for her to enter, already ruing the thought of sharing a cab with her. Because it made him think of sharing other things. In a much more private and fulfilling venue. That single night of summer madness. The one he couldn’t get out of his head.
A single night, he could probably handle. But any more than that truly would be madness.
SHE PROBABLY SHOULDN’T be dancing with him.
Especially not this kind of dancing. Cheek to cheek, her right hand cradled in his, the fingers of her left hand at the back of his neck. Except the entire evening had been leading up to this. She’d danced with Marcos for a whole dance before Clay had cut in with a smooth remark about needing to discuss capoeira strategy for the exhibition.
Only Clay hadn’t talked strategy. He’d simply spun her into his arms as a slow dance came on, his warm fingers burning through the thin knit top she’d changed into. It wasn’t nightclub wear, since she hadn’t known they’d be going out tonight. But, then again, The Pied Piper wasn’t a dressy kind of club. It was where professionals went after work to wind down from the day. And to possibly score a little company for the night.
Tessa wasn’t interested in scoring anything. So she’d been more than happy to stick to dancing with people she knew. Even if that meant finding herself in Clay’s arms all over